1:17am
by perfect-tourniquet
Summary: They've been friends for quite sometime, things like this are bound to happen. Set to "Behind the Mask", James/Camille.


_1:17am_

And here, my friends, is a "small" one-shot for Camille and James. After so many episodes of them being paired off, I could not resist. There simply isn't enough Jamille love out there. :P

It may turn into something multi-chaptered if I decided to make them have to deal with the consequences. I wrote this thinking along the lines of "Behind the Mask" by Escape the Fate, purely because the second verse inspired me. I know two things that are completely unrelated: BTR and ETF. Enjoy, I guess –advanced apology for any grammar errors. And this story is way longer than I intended but, so many parts I could have glossed over, but I don't think you guys will mind. ;]

Another little note: The timeline for this story is a little awkward; the age this is occurring is around 18, 19, the boys have been there awhile. _*Lyrics are centered and italicized._

_Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Big Time Rush, any similar characters, settings, etc. If I did own it – it would not be a children's show. Hahaa_

**Warning: RATED M! Yes, this really is not meant for young eyes. And if you don't like it, no one is forcing your mouse to click on it, and no one is forcing your occipital lobe to help process its content. I respect your right to like it or not, so please respect my right to write what I please. :]**

Teenage years, you end up looking back on them at some point in your life. Friendships ignited by the stupidest things. Relationships spin out of control like wildfires in the summer. Everything you have put the test, without the fear of ever losing. You're young, you're invincible; nothing can hurt you.

That is until you're older, sitting in the morning traffic in your glossy car, heading to that fancy job, or something mundane like that. All of these questions flood your mind like a dam breaking suddenly. You aren't quite sure what started the torrential waterfall, but you cannot stop thinking about everything that has already passed. Whether you succeeded or failed; do you regret anything, do you feel you took every chance you had, and do you think you did anything stupid, would you change something? All of these questions arise at some point, and everyone's answers differ as much as the shapes of snowflakes during a fierce winter storm. But in their heads in the moments full of fire and desire, they couldn't have cared less. Camille was only interested in living like there was no tomorrow, and James was her partner in crime for the hours of darkness.

_I was the anchor, on a heavy sinking ship. And we're sinking faster, I am the only culprit._

The sun was setting low in the LA sky on the particular evening, its warmth radiating down on the teens still absorbing the last few rays at the pool. Another Saturday night filled with memories looming quite close in the future. Surrounding the recently lit fire pit, a radio filling the background noise, the booze set in a beat-up cooler filled with ice, the friends were huddling close as darkness fell.

"Oh my God, that isn't fucking true! Are you an idiot, James?" Camille was laughing wildly as she clutched her sides. The group was following her actions, laughing along.

After the beer bottle was removed from his lips, James continued, "I'm serious, it's true! It was a fact on my Snapple cap the other day!" He knew that everyone thought he was an airhead for believing something so silly, but, hey, it was on Snapple cap. Those things 'never' lie.

The fact, you ask? #_**10 Mosquitoes are attracted to people who just ate bananas.**_

"James you really can't always trust the Snapple cap 'facts', not so reliable." Logan tossed in as he leaned his head against Camille's knee.

"You all lie, I tell you. It's true. I believe in Snapple!" James shouted playfully, raising his beverage towards the sky. Camille noticed a scheme flash in his wild hazel eyes. Truth is Camille always watched his eyes intently when he spoke. There was something she loved about seeing his thoughts nearly spell themselves out in his irises. She had realized, many times, it was somewhat disturbing to think that but, she could never break the habit.

While she did have something Logan awhile back, it never compared to how James made her feel after a while. Logan was so proper; everything had a calculated reason and timeline. It was like he was afraid to kiss her, to touch her, to want her, to know her. While James on the other hand was confident in himself; he knew what he wanted and still had that unmistakable innocence to him. He knew how to kiss a girl, how to touch her; he got to know the girl. Camille found herself drawn to him on more than one occasion, physically and mentally.

"Hey, wait it's only a little after dusk, mosquitoes are still out! SOMEONE EAT A MOTHERFUCKING BANANA!" He had sat up straight, looking for volunteers, before laughing at himself, with his friends willing to do the same.

"James, I don't think anyone wants to find out if that ridiculous fact is true . . . not even Carlos," Kendall chuckled at his beloved friend, smacking a soft fist into James' arm. "No one is _that_ drunk."

"Oh I'll get someone. I will, mark my words." James smirked like the devil himself would have, ". . . so who wants another one? I need a human guinea pig!" He smiled brightly, and it almost seemed like the smile was meant for Camille. His gaze was heavy on her, and she felt her cheeks filling to a crimson color. Maybe it was the alcohol getting to her, causing foolish hallucinations of James showing her affection.

Shaking the thought from her dazed and buzzed mind she spoke, "James, you are insane." She couldn't contain her smile as his name rolled off her tongue. She liked the way it sounded, the way it felt to say his name. _James_.

He had scoffed and put on an over-emotional hurt face, while clutching his heart through his chest, "Camille Anne, I am deeply hurt by your accusations of insanity!" After his dramatic show was over, he smiled wide, a sincere twinkle in his eyes. James was the only one who ever sporadically used her middle name when he addressed her.

"Oh, James, you know I love you." Camille wished to herself that he really did know how much she cared about him, how crazy his mere presence drove her.

"Thanks babe." James put his sunbeam of grin on his face. Camille could feel her heart flipping in her chest, from his smile. She knew not to take the 'babe' part to heart, because he called nearly every girl that at some point.

_How did everything go wrong? I'm trying to make sense of it. I've gotta stay strong, we've gotta stay strong. Don't you dare, walk away; we're all here to stay _

Conversations, laughs, and stories lulled the time away, faster than anyone realized. The night continued to get blacker as the hours ticked by. The beer was disappearing out of the cooler, the fire was dying, and the group was thinning out. Carlos, his much-adored helmet, Stephanie, and Logan were among the first few to leave. Another hour or two ticked by and Kendall and Jo were gone too. At 1:17am, it left James and Camille staring into the remnant embers of the fire together. James sitting on ground, his back pressed against the bench around the fire pit, and Camille lying with her head in his lap.

"What'cha thinking about my dear, Camille?" James mused as he played with her mahogany curls absentmindedly.

She sighed, another drunken Saturday night conversation with him. They always ended up being the last awake. "Eh, I don't know. Everything I guess. What about you?" she smiled, looking up at him.

James liked looking at Camille. He found his gaze locked on her at the most indiscriminate times, he thought about her some days and how she was at that time. In this moment he felt braver than he had ever before, maybe it was the numerous beers he tossed back talking for him but, he still said it; and he never blamed anything on being drunk.

"I dunno. Probably, about how much I'd like to kiss you right now." He breathed out, still looking her, his hand still intertwined in her unruly curls.

Camille felt her next breath just stop her in throat. She couldn't exhale or inhale. It was like an overwhelming dizziness that washed over her, like when you stand up too fast. She'll never know why she ever spoke her feelings at the time, but she spilt her heart on the floor for him.

"Then do it." She spoke so softly, it was astonishing James had heard her.

James placed his hands around Camille's rib cage, picking her up from her position lying on the ground, until she was straddled across his hips. The two's foreheads were touching, breathing the only sound, staring at each other for a moment's time. The mere contact of their bodies, spent sparks zipping up their spines. "The privilege is mine." James whispered as his lips connected with Camille's.

The kiss was soft at first. Starting as a peck, before their lips met again together, meshing themselves together like a child mixing the colors of play-doh. James had wrapped his strong arms around her mid section pulling her closer, flush against his chest. Camille had latched her tiny hands on the back of his neck, with one hand tangling up into his shaggy chocolate locks. It became heated; it lasted until their lungs were crying out for more oxygen, adding to the dizzying effect.

_Remnants left of a time once knew. We can never go back to that place, go back to that place._

When the two parted, silence filled the air for a moment, James staring deeply at Camille, with her doing the same to him. Much to his surprise, Camille pulled James back for another kiss. It was rough, his tongue darting out, brushing against her bottom lip. She parted her lips and he was lost in her. His tongue mapping the depths of her mouth, memorizing every spot that earned him a shiver or a whimper, whatever she loved. His mind clouded and he only wanted Camille, he wanted her closer to him. He wanted all of her.

Pulling away, Camille could feel her cheeks flushing with an all too familiar crimson again. "J-James, what are, w-what are we d-doing?" her mind was clouded, speech impaired.

James had no answer. He had no logic backing up his craving. He knew he liked her, but he never thought his desire went so deep, down to his heart. His lips twisted themselves into a small smile at her, "I have no idea, but I want you."

His soft lips had attached to her throat, trailing across it, up to her ear. He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, before moving back down her jaw to her neck. James could feel her sallow down a whine. Camille's finger tips were digging hard enough into his shoulders to leave marks. He grazed his teeth against the ivory flesh and sucked hard; leaving the most beautiful violet blemish he'd ever seen. He loved knowing he put it there; that he saw her unraveling at the seams.

Camille pulled James' face back to hers. She pressed another kiss to his lips, "I want you more," her breath tickling his nose.

_I'll be your lover in a room that's full of sins_. _I'm undercover, I should run but I just can't help it._

With that comment, James had enough. He stood up still holding Camille, her legs wrapped around him. Shifting her so he was now carrying her, her arms latched around his neck, James sprinted to the elevator. He punched the up button furiously. As the silver doors dinged open, he darted in and gently set her down, pinning her to wall. He was back at her neck in seconds, breathing in her sweet scent, completely lost in what was Camille. Her hands were tugging helplessly at the hem of his t-shirt, biting back moans and grabbing on to something, _anything _trying to keep her sanity intact.

Usually, elevators are the spot where a duo involved would realize what was going on, and decide against it. It was supposed to be that awkward moment where you notice exactly what was going to happen, and you walked away, trying to pretend nothing ever occurred. But with James and Camille, there was _nothing_ that could stop this.

They found themselves pulling each other down the long dim 3rd floor hallway, stopping every few feet for a kiss, to where Camille's apartment was. Even in their silly buzzed state, they knew they couldn't waltz into 2J like this. Camille was fumbling with her keys, as James was laying kisses over her milky colored shoulders.

"Do you know you're beautiful Camille?" James breathed against the back of her neck.

"Do you know you're drunk James?" she considered, rather bitterly. While she didn't intend for it to sound so harsh, the alcohol in her system was effectively ruining her comment filter. He had turned her around so he was mere centimeters away from her face.

"You are beautiful," James smiled and intertwined his left hand with Camille's right. He kissed each knuckle of her small hand, "you've got me wrapped around your finger."

Camille just stared at him dumbfounded for a minute. James just called her beautiful, twice. She was done caring if this was only brought on by alcohol; she was going to let everything go to her head. ". . . Thank-you." She whispered carefully.

James took the key out her noticeably trembling hand. He twisted it until he heard the long awaited click. Pulling Camille in by her hand, he offered her another reassuring kiss, "Camille, you deserve someone telling you that you're beautiful, that you're perfect."

Camille was again stunned. She knew James was a compassionate person, but she never knew he was so heartfelt. She couldn't stop herself from attaching herself to James again. She led him to the door of her bedroom, and opened it. He grabbed her hips, and pulled her into the dark room. Tossing her down on the bed, James laid on top of her small frame wasting no time to devour her lips.

To James, her lips tasted sweet. She smelt like a rush of strawberry with the intoxicating warmth of vanilla hidden underneath the bright fruity scent. Her mahogany locks were soft, her skin ivory and warm. And her eyes –don't even get him started on those. The deepest brown he'd ever seen, now black with lust. He'd kill to see those everyday when he woke up. He'd be perfectly all right with just being this close to her for the rest of his life, just drinking everything about her in.

_I'll taste like summer, on a stormy winter night. You taste like fire, burning everything in sight. Don't you dare walk away; please don't go away._

James took the lead in the situation, so far. Camille was a firecracker though, somewhere in the midst of James pulling the thin fabric of her sweater off, she had turned the tables. To be honest, James was thrilled. It was something original, something a girl never did. He **had** been a player around fifteen, sixteen, and he always had to be the aggressive one. This was a paramount change of pace for him, and he fucking loved her feistiness.

"Hi." she smirked after successfully their flipping positions.

"Aren't you a little devil?" James grinned at Camille as she closed the distance between their lips.

Camille's petite frame was now straddled across James' hips, and her fingertips were meandering to the hem of his t-shirt. She wanted to make him wait; her lips returned the delightful favor to his throat like he'd done to her before –a matching hickey for him. James grabbed Camille's wrists and pulled her hands up, that gladly peeled away the offending gray piece of material that was his shirt. She'd seen him shirtless dozens of times, but this seemed brand new, like he'd gotten even more god-like since she saw him in the pool earlier that day. Camille drank in the distinct carved lines of his abdomen, the slabs of muscle that formed his chest, the bugles of his arms and shoulders. His hands went to the bottom of her small sundress. James rolled his hands along her thighs taking the dress along for the ride.

His shirt down, her sweater and dress gone. James ran his fingers along her stomach, feeling the muscles tense under the contact. His next move was bold, reaching around Camille's back to untie the flimsy strings of her bikini top. As it fell on the bed, he pulled her back for another kiss, wanting to feel bare skin on bare skin; he trailed down her neck, to her collarbone, then flipping her again. He devoured her décolletage. The moans she was able to stifle before, all spilled out as he nipped at one of her breasts. Continuing his journey south, he left wet trails of kisses down her abdomen, dipping his tongue into Camille's navel. James dragged his tongue across the line of her bikini bottoms, from hip to hip, biting down on the left one.

_Remnants left of a time once knew; we can never go back to that place. Go back to that place._

His fingertips were grazing across her skin, leaving a trail of noticeable goose bumps. Camille could sense his hesitation as his hands wandered to take her bottoms off. She wondered why he was even hesitating. He's James Diamond. He could get any girl in bed he wanted.

"James. . . please. I need you." Camille whined as she grabbed his wrists and placed his hands on the garment and curled his fingers around it.

Camille's words went straight his groin. His already painful problem just got even worse. This beautiful girl was laid out before him, and here he was wavering. This girl he cared about, this girl he trusted, this girl he loved. James could feel her hands pushing his wrists down; before Camille could blink again he had ripped the piece of fabric off, to be lost among the previously discarded clothing and sheets. Soon James' swim trunks were lying somewhere in the room with Camille's bottoms.

"Ughh, James. . . Jamessss," she whimpered as he thrusted into her fast and hard. "Oh God, please! More!" she was eventually crying the words out, everything nerve in her body taking in everything James offered.

James was gonna lose it soon. She felt amazing, and every single word and sound that she cried out, only pushed him closer to the edge. His hands were clutching to her hips, strong enough to leave bruises. "God, Camille. . ." were the only words he could form.

As that crazy tension built between them, they could both feel it coming. "James, s-so, soo close." she moaned. Frantically she held tight on to him for dear life, finger nails clawing at his shoulder blades.

"Let go, baby." James whispered in her ear and pressed a kiss to it.

The next sound was absolute pure pleasure spilling from Camille's lips as she reached her peak, toes curling, back arching. It made James go outright crazy, everything got fuzzy and he followed right behind her into bliss.

_Masks we wear to disguise the truth. We can never go back to that place. Go, I said I will go. Go, I said I will go. Go, I said I will go, will go!_

The moments of pleasure began to slip away, as their breathing began to slow, visions cleared, bodies relaxed. They were laying there holding each other for a few minutes in silence. James rolled on to his side, cradling Camille with her head on his chest, lazily running his hand through her wild curls. She could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed.

James broke the silence; he pulled her up to eye level and pecked her lips. "I think I love you."

Camille smiled like a little girl being twirled around while dancing. She laid her head back down, listening to his heartbeat, she worried if he'd stay with her for the night, "I love you too. Please stay."

James threw the duvet over them, beyond satisfied with her response. Camille was snuggled into him, as sleep found their tired bodies.

_Remnants left of a time once knew; we can never go back to that place. Go back to that place. Masks we wear, times we've shared, the times we've shared._

Sunlight streamed its way through the thin curtains. The two were wrapped up together, legs tangled, snuggled in the covers. Camille awoke first from the light, and immediately smiled at the sight of a sleeping James. He looked so adorable, his lips parted, puffs of air escaping past them, hair messy, and warm arms around her. This was no mistake.

_Remnants left of a time once knew; we can never go back to that, to that, to that place. To that place, that place._

- So, yeah, that's it. Reading this over again, I made James quite a biter, hahaa. Let me know what you think, anonymous reviews are enabled. And now it's time for me to go hide under a rock . . . bye.


End file.
